


Of Coffee Dates and Secrets

by ximeria



Series: Given enough coffee, I could rule the world [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's life suits him. It's quiet, simple and without any surprises. Acquiring a new friend turns all that upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coffee Dates and Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a current day universe and probably (definitely) just a first part of a bigger universe. It'll be my writing experience/experiment/comfy- zone.

If anyone had told Erik that his life would be taking a 180 degree turn, that he'd have it uprooted, he would have shaken his head and carried on ignoring them.

Of course, that was before he made the acquaintance of one Charles Xavier and got dragged into things he had previously avoided like the plague.

But to begin with the beginning. It was s Tuesday afternoon, and Erik was ending his shift at the hospital. Maybe being an orderly wasn't as glamorous as being a doctor and not quite what his mother had had in mind for him, but nevertheless, he liked it, most days.

He stepped out of the elevator, checking his pocket for his cell phone and ID card. Being busy doing so, it meant he heard the voice before seeing the speaker.

"Helloooo, nurse," a man said, obvious appreciation in his voice.

"Charles! Stop thinking with your dick. Just because you're on pain killers, doesn't mean you shouldn't act properly. " The second voice was female and when Erik looked up, he realized that the appreciative comment had been aimed at him.

He almost stopped dead, but realized that the safest option would be to just continue walking. Even if the guy who had said it was cute as hell, his eyes clear and warm as he gave Erik a long lingering look up and down.

The woman, who had spoken, stood behind him, exasperation evident in her movements as she determinedly turned the wheelchair the man was in around, heading towards the front desk. She shot Erik a quick apologetic look and pushed the wheelchair forward, her blonde hair almost a halo around her head.

All the while, the guy in the chair was trying to look back at Erik.

"Charles!" she hissed, pushing a little harder.

"You're no fun, Raven, seriously, did you see that guy?"

"Yes I did, and you just embarrassed him in public, so please shut up," she told him, stopping in front of the desk, leaning over to ask one of the nurses about something.

Erik wanted to claim that he didn't run from the place, but it was pretty close. He wasn't self conscious on most days, and while he knew he was okay looking, he wasn't used to such loud and blatant interest from anyone.

On his way out, he was very aware of being watched but he refused to turn around to see if he was right. No reason to encourage anyone. It never worked out in the end anyway. Being alone meant less of a risk, really.

Erik occasionally felt like a very bad motivational poster when comforting himself.

He picked up the news paper from the small vendor outside as he usually did, and made his way homeward. He took the nightshifts when he could, leaving work somewhere between morning and noon. The other orderlies hated the shift with a passion, so he usually got his way.

Folding the news paper under his arm, he walked the twenty minutes to his apartment, midday New York busy around him. He was just another face in the crowd, no one to worry about and as long as it was that way, he would enjoy his job and the anonymity.

His apartment was nothing much, just a large bedroom cum living room with a small kitchenette off to the side. The only really redeeming thing about it was it was on the fifth floor of an old factory building and still had the big windows facing out to the street.

It also had an old freight elevator that he occasionally used to bring his motorbike outside for a long drive. It didn't happen often - most days he just worked and when he came home he'd let the TV drone on while he either read or fell asleep, awkwardly curled up on the couch.

Microwaving the dinner he'd made the previous day, he put the news paper on the table and skimmed the headlines.

 **Mutant registration act a mere formality.**

Erik stared at the words and sighed. It was true. For all the bureaucratic shit, the registration was already taking place. Being a mutant, they said, you wouldn't be discriminated against, but you should definitely sign your name on the registration forms.

For the greater good.

Making a face, he put coffee on as well, taking the stew from the microwave. Carefully, he put it down on the table and pulled out a spoon. Sitting down he ignored the article. It would only serve to annoy him and quite frankly, the days where he felt as if he should get involved with shit like that were long since gone.

Naivety of youth. Idealism. Shit that could get you killed.

He'd learned his lesson early on and while he knew that humans could be cruel, he also knew just how bad other mutants could be.

Shaw. Shaw had taught him that. Good riddance to that asshole, anyway.

Erik rubbed the scar under his sleeve. The M that had been branded into his arm when he'd been thrown into that damned camp.

Shaking his head, Erik pushed the memories away. Getting involved was for people who were stronger than he was. Another headline caught his attention and a small smile curved his lips. Like the X-men. If he were prone to believing in a brighter future, he would put his trust in those people. The public was torn between branding the X-men enemies of the state and freedom fighters. Just because he kept a low profile didn't mean he wasn't secretly rooting for their success. They had cracked enough illegal mutant camps and experimental laboratories.

Erik shuddered at the thought, his mind skittering along the edge of unpleasant memories.

Finishing off his stew and the news paper, he washed his dish and spoon, putting them in the drainer. He sat down on the couch with a cup of coffee and switched the TV on. A flick of the wrist and the light switch by the door clicked, switching off the lights in the kitchenette.

Drifting, not really paying attention to the programs, Erik found his mind returning to the hospital. The man in the wheelchair, of all things. It was strange that he couldn't quite get rid of the feeling that he'd seen him somewhere before.

Shaking himself awake, Erik finally stood, switched the TV off and pulled the curtains closed, before dropping his shirt onto the chair by his bed. Falling onto the bed, Erik let sleep drag him under.

**

"I'm sorry if I was little rude the other day."

It was Thursday and Erik was taking care of the last of his chores before he could get out from work.

The voice was honey soft and familiar.

Erik looked up from where he was making up a new bed in the room and found the man in the wheelchair blocking the door opening. Lifting an eyebrow he shrugged. "It's alright, I guess," he said, wishing the man would go away.

Obviously there was no one listening to his wishes.

"I was being rude," the man said, giving his wheels a slight push and the light weight wheelchair rolled into the room. "The least I could do is to apologize and ask you out for coffee."

Erik hadn't moved at all, still leaning over the bed, staring at him.

The guy seemed to take that as an invitation. Holding out his hand, he grinned widely. "My name's Charles Xavier."

The name more than rang a bell and Erik could have kicked himself. This would be why he had thought him familiar. Erik might stay away from Mutant rights movements, but it was hard not to have heard the name of Charles Xavier before.

Erik stepped around the bed once he was sure he had done a good job and took Charles' hand, shaking it slowly. "Erik Lehnsherr," he conceded.

"Hello, Erik," Charles greeted, a wide grin on his face, making him look younger than his years. He didn't let go of Erik's hand until Erik realized they'd been holding hands for almost a full minute and he made to pull his hand back.

Charles let go of him with one last squeeze. Resting his hands on the arms of the wheelchair, Charles cocked his head to the side. "And I meant it, I was rude the other day and I hope you'll allow me to buy you at least a cup of coffee as apology."

Erik had the indistinct feeling that Charles wasn't used to being told 'no'. He should say no, he really should, yet instead he said: "My shift ends in ten minutes."

"I know," Charles said, smiling at him. "I asked at the front desk." Rolling back after checking over his shoulder, Charles vacated the door and Erik could leave the room.

"Are you stalking me?" Erik asked, looking down at the man next to him as they moved towards the elevator.

"Kinda," Charles admitted, "do you mind?"

Erik scratched his chin. "I think I should," he admitted. There was something about Xavier that made him want to tell the truth - be blunt. Among other things. However, those urges Erik shoved down ruthlessly.

This would be how Erik found himself, two days after being sexually harassed by Charles Xavier, having coffee with aforementioned man inside a small café.

"Like I said," Charles repeated himself, "I am sorry about being so bloody rude, but in my defense I was high on pain killers. I get to go to physical therapy and tests a couple of times a month. So when I saw you the first time I was pretty low on self control and while that has no impact on my appreciation of a fine looking man, it had disconnected whatever brakes there normally are between my mind and my mouth."

Erik hid a small smile behind his cup of coffee. "So you're normally more suave than that," he judged.

"Hell no," Charles said with a laugh. "According to my sister, Raven, I have the worst pick up lines in existence." He watched Erik with a small smile. "But I've got great taste."

"I see what you sister means by worst pick up lines," Erik deadpanned.

Charles didn't seem insulted by it, if anything, he merely laughed. He tilted his head to the side and watched Erik silently for a moment.

The intense scrutiny made Erik a little uneasy, but he'd been taught manners by his mother and he was not going to just get up and leave right then. Turning his head to break eye contact, his gaze fell on the neighboring table, sporting an abandoned game of chess.

"Do you play?" Charles asked, obviously trying not to sound too eager.

An unbidden memory of his mother sitting patiently opposite him, teaching him all the moves of the various pieces rose in his mind. Gently pushing it down and to the side, Erik looked back at Charles. "Occasionally, though it's been a while since I last played."

"Same here," Charles admitted with a soft grin. "Care for a game?"

Erik didn't answer, but simply transferred the board to their table and set up the pieces while Charles ordered them more coffee.

**

Before they parted ways outside, Charles grabbed his sleeve. "I'll be back at the hospital for another check-up on Monday... you wouldn't happen to be working..." Charles said, heavily hinting for a positive answer from Erik.

Erik, against his better judgment nodded. "I get off shift at 5PM."

"Have dinner with me," Charles pressed, smiling invitingly before letting go of Erik's jacket sleeve. "Please."

Erik knew he shouldn't. There was keeping a low profile and then there was flaunting it around the city by going out with the best known mutant in the country.

Instead he found himself nodding, agreeing to meet Charles at the front of the building ten past five on the following Monday.

**

Erik learned quickly that no topic was to obscure for Charles and that the man was far too smart for his own good. Not street smart, though he talked the talk, more often than not. No, he was book smart in a way that scared Erik as well as fascinated him.

Charles knew physics, chemistry, genetics and classic literature, interspersed with the strangest pop culture references.

Realistically, Erik knew he might be in lust with Charles' brain, but the rest wasn't too far behind. He wasn't sure when it happened, but during one of their dinner/chess dates, he realized that he'd taken to Charles in a way he had never done to another person. Where normally paranoia and wariness would keep him from letting anyone near, he found he wanted to trust Charles, and he wanted Charles to trust him.

Also, much to his surprise, Charles rarely ever preached his cause. Someone who was the living embodiment of the Mutant Rights Movement should have been, but Charles, while willingly debating the rights and the politics of his life, never forced his views down Erik's throat.

He was careful with his feelings around Charles. It was public knowledge that Charles was registered as an empath, and he'd seen Charles make good use of the advantages this gave him when it came to reading people's moods and through this, their intentions.

"So, some of the kids are a little wilder than others," Charles explained to him one afternoon. "I mean, running a school for gifted youngsters takes energy and I wouldn't be able to do it without the people working there, teaching."

"So, by gifted youngsters," Erik began to ask, wondering if all the kids were scarily smart like Charles.

"Hey, mutie, we think you and your boyfriends should get out of here before we make you." The voice as grating and when Erik looked up, he found a man who could not be much older than he was, looking caught between flinging more abuse at them and running away. Obviously, taunting mutants was thought to be a good idea... by some idiots. The two younger men behind him seemed to egg him on, though they carefully kept their distance.

While Charles' reputation obviously was known to most who paid attention to the news in general, the men had no idea who Erik was, and for all they knew, he could have been one as well. A mutant. Which he was, but he hadn't even told Charles that and while he didn't really distrust Charles these days, it just hadn't come up, and he partly he still wanted to keep that little secret to himself.

Charles froze in his seat, then sat a little straighter. "So, let me see if I get this. You're taking offense in me being gay and a mutant," he said slowly. "Would you like to throw in cripple and while we're at it, agnostic as well?" he asked deceptively quiet.

The guy stared at Charles and Erik couldn't quite figure out what was going on, but he was ready to get to his feet, ready to strike. Maybe his powers weren't as impressive as a lot of other mutants, but he had to fight to keep the nearby cutlery from vibrating.

Charles reached over the table without taking his eyes off the angry man. He put his hand on Erik's, squeezed it and just held on.

After a moment of silence, Charles relaxed visibly, but he kept his hand where it was. "No, I really don't think you thought that through to the end before interrupting our date," he said acidly. "It's about time you leave here, do I make myself clear?"

The man just watched him with wide eyes and Erik wondered just how anyone could consider Charles dangerous, but nevertheless, it seemed someone did. Then without a word, he turned on his heel and fled the scene, his two supporters falling over their feet to follow him.

Charles stared after them, before turning his attention back to Erik. "Sorry about that," he said in a low voice. "Sometimes it just pisses me off how prejudiced people can be."

Erik wanted to be suave, calm, wanted to say 'no kidding, I wouldn't have guessed', but instead... "Date?"

Charles blinked a few times, quickly, more than a little surprised. "Well, yes... I mean, if you want to, if you don't mind..."

Erik looked down at the hand on top of his and then back up, to Charles' flushed face. He put his free hand on top of Charles and held it there for a moment, before letting go. The smile this earned him was almost blinding.

"Let's get out of here," Charles said with a small huff, "Alex will be picking me up at your address in half an hour or so."

Erik dropped money onto the table to cover their coffee and the cookies Charles had insisted on. He knew that Charles was wealthy enough, but if he and Charles were to be friends, he wanted it to be a friendship of equals.

"I think," Charles said, as he tugged his scarf inside his jacket while Erik maneuvered the wheelchair through the door of the café, "that if you want to you should come visit the school. See what it's all about."

While the suggestion had been offered in an even voice, Erik could tell it wasn't something that was offered easily.

"When you said gifted children," Erik said instead of a yes or no, "I take it you didn't mean their high IQs." He wasn't sure he wanted to say yes, but he could hardly let himself say no either. He wanted Charles to be able to be open with him, although he felt like hypocrite. He was the one keeping secrets.

Charles chuckled as they headed down one of the less busy streets. While Charles hadn't been inside Erik's apartment, it had become habit to walk there and have one of the young people from the school pick Charles up there.

"No," Charles admitted. "They're all a little more special than high IQs," he said with wave of his hand before resuming the motion of pushing his wheels along.

Erik had wondered in the beginning why Charles hadn't gotten himself an electric one, but he'd asked and Charles had laughed and admitted that he was fond of using the rest of his body since his legs weren't working anymore.

Not that Erik was complaining. He'd seen Charles in a tight t-shirt and he'd been hard pressed to not touch the corded muscles of Charles' arms. The kind of muscles that came about from daily use and Erik hadn't even known that was a kink of his.

As they walked up to the building, Charles turned his head as if listening for something, then shook his head and continued to tell Erik about the school. The word mutants wasn't mentioned, but Erik had gotten the hint. He couldn't blame Charles for being careful in public. One thing was adults who could take care of themselves, children were a whole different kettle of fish and Erik couldn't imagine Charles ever taking such a risk.

Charles pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked it. "Alex will be a little delayed," he said. "Ten minutes or so."

Erik thought about inviting Charles up, but even though he had come to like Charles, he felt almost shaky at the thought of doing so. His home was his fortress, the place he hid in from the rest of the world.

However, a moment later, the first drops of water hit his face and Erik just pushed the door to the entrance open, gesturing from Charles to get in.

The entrance hallway wasn't much more than the old entrance of the factory. Slightly run down, but secure enough, since Erik had made sure the elevator as well as the stairwell leading up to his apartment were littered with modern technology, designed to keep any intruders out.

"Thanks," Charles said, wiping water from his eyes, pushing his hair back by running his fingers through it.

Erik stomped hard on the urge to run his fingers through Charles' hair as well. It was unsettling how much he had to fight with the urge to touch Charles on a regular basis when they were together. Not that he thought Charles would mind, but he just wasn't quite ready to go there just yet.

Again, Charles froze, looking around him. "Anyone else living here?" he asked.

"No," Erik admitted, "not at the moment. There's another apartment below mine, but there's been no one living there for a the past few months. Why?"

A boom and a rumbling noise interrupted them before Charles could answer.

The world exploded into debris and falling concrete and steel beams. To Erik it was like darkness interspersed with the vibrant light of metal. Without conscious thought, he wrapped the metal in ways that deflected the concrete, using the metal of Charles' wheelchair to pull him close, drag him to the ground and shelter him with his own body.

It felt literally as if the weight of the whole world was pushing down on top of him and Erik felt his timid power rise and fall, the shelter he'd built instinctively moving with it.

The small cocoon that surrounded them was almost claustrophobic. Erik breathed heavily against Charles' shoulder, knowing that one wrong thought from him and the metal and concrete above them would bury them for good.

"You're stronger than that," Charles whispered in the dark.

"Cha-charles?" The air was saturated with dust and debris, making his eyes feel gritty, making his nose itch. And as usual, Charles made no sense.

 _'Don't strain yourself, let me help you, let me be your control,'_ Charles whispered in his mind.

Erik wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. Of course there was more to Charles' powers than empathy. He'd seen plenty enough in the weeks they had been taking coffee and dinner together. Played chess. How Charles had deflected the three guys so easily, how he had a seemingly sixth sense as to what people wanted.

 _'You can slap_ me _for it when we get out of here,'_ Charles projected into his mind. _'Just... let me help.'_

Erik moaned as it felt as if his head was going to explode. He wasn't used to handling such large structures, such pressure. Smaller things made entirely out of metal, that was about all he could handle. Keeping a seven story building from collapsing onto him and Charles...

 _'Just hold on for long enough,'_ Charles begged.

 _'I'm sorry,'_ Erik tried to think at him, feeling the darkness inching into his mind. He could taste blood and a quick lick at his upper lip told him he was bleeding from the nose.

 _'No!'_ Charles voice was deafening inside of Erik's mind, but he didn't notice, didn't notice anything but time seemingly stopping as Charles desperately found his lips and kissed him as if that alone could save them. Erik didn't mind, because it felt so very good.

All around and over them, the debris of the fallen building rippled, the vibrations rising through every steel beam and metal piece of its construction.

There was a distinct scent of sulfur in the air and then nothing.

**

Erik's head felt as if he'd gone on a weeklong bender. He kept his eyes closed, trying to take in his surroundings. There was a quiet beep of medical equipment nearby. But it wasn't a hospital. The usual smells and noises were missing.

Forcing his eyes open, Erik found himself in a semi-dark room, in a rather large four poster bed. The window off to the side let very little light in through gaps in the heavy curtains. He could make out dark furniture, chairs, a couch, a desk.

He stared up at the ceiling, wondering where the heck he'd just woken up. The last thing he recalled was going out with Charles, of ending up underneath his building, being crushed, of Charles... Charles... kissing him, so desperately, his mind saturating Erik's...

There was a light knock at the door and Erik turned his head, wincing at the pain.

"Yeah?" he called out, or tried, his voice barely a croak.

However, whomever was on the other side must have heard him, because the door swung open, revealing a worried looking Charles and a young boy behind him.

When Charles switched the light on, Erik winced and then tried so hard not to stare. While he'd seen physical mutations before, he'd never seen anything like this. The boy was blue skinned, dark haired and with, of all things, a tail. The hand curled around the back of the wheelchair sported only three fingers each.

"You're awake," Charles stated, looking very tired, but relieved.

"I am," Erik rasped.

"Hang on," Charles said, turning his head to the side. "Kurt, would you get Erik something to drink?"

The boy nodded quickly and stepped around the wheelchair, looking at Erik out of the corner of his eye as he poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the bedside. He held it shyly for Erik to drink, setting it back onto the bedside table when Erik had emptied it.

"I wanted you to meet Kurt," Charles said, a softness to his voice that Erik had never witnessed before. "He's the one who got us out. Just turned ten and he did more than what most adult mutants could have done. Pure instinct."

The boy returned to Charles side, looking both proud and slightly embarrassed at Charles' praise.

"He heard my call for help and teleported into the shelter you'd created," he explained to Erik. "Grabbed us and teleported us back here. Mind you," he reached out and squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "He dropped unconscious two seconds later."

"I'll train and get better," Kurt promised solemnly.

Erik huffed a small laugh. "You did very well, Kurt. Thank you."

Kurt stared at him indecisively for a moment, then stepped up to the bed and hugged Erik awkwardly. "Thank you for keeping Uncle Charles alive."

Erik held himself perfectly still. He wasn't used to being hugged and he somehow got the feeling after seeing Charles' surprised expression, that it was a very important moment for Kurt as well.

"I promised Alex to come find him when we were done," Kurt told Charles as he stepped back. "He and Sean want to play guitar hero."

Charles gave him a quick one armed hug. "Go ahead, have fun. My favorite nephew," he added with a grin.

"Uncle Charles," Kurt chided as he slipped from the embrace and headed for the door, "I'm your only nephew."

"Exactly," Charles called over his shoulder, smiling as Kurt closed the door.

Erik stared at him, not knowing what to say or do. Well, say mostly, as he couldn't do much but lie still. Most movement made his whole body hurt.

Charles pushed at the wheels and slid the wheelchair close to the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Like I got hit by a seven story building," Erik admitted. He watched with a strange fluttering feel to his stomach as Charles laughed.

"Well, my friend, you were, _we_ were."

They stared at each other for a moment and Erik imagined a whole herd of elephants in the room, all the things that should be addressed, but weren't and all the things he knew he should be asking...

"Before you say anything," Charles suddenly said, reaching out to touch Erik's arm lightly. "Let me try?"

Erik gestured for him to carry on. He didn't dare nod his head, fearing the pain would hit him even harder.

"I wasn't entirely truthful, as I'm sure you've figured out already," Charles began. "First of all, although I'm registered as being an empath, it's bending the truth more than a little."

Erik just kept watching him. He'd figured as much already, because an empath couldn't project thoughts the way Charles had.

Charles gave him an apologetic look. "Probably more than bending it, really. I'm a telepath... and I've yet to find anyone as powerful as I am." Charles stopped, stared at Erik as if he was afraid he'd just up and leave right there.

"Did you kiss me?" Erik blurted out. Of all the things he'd wanted to ask, that was the one that slipped out.

Charles stared at him, surprised and... with just a flicker of delight as well. His cheeks flushed and he broke eye contact. Clearing his throat, he tried to look Erik in the eyes again, but failed.

Erik bit his lower lip and felt his own face heat.

Charles laughed, hiding his face behind his hand. "Oh my god! How old are we?"

Erik relaxed significantly when he realized that Charles was about as nervous as he was.

Charles rubbed the back of his head and looked at Erik. "I did. And you kissed me back."

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Would you be okay if I asked to kiss you again?" Charles question was barely audible.

"You're the mind reader, you should know," Erik shot back, desperately trying to gather his wits about him.

"Erik..." Charles's voice was so low and soft. "I would never read your mind without asking first. When we were buried I forced my way in, to help you control your power, but trust me, that was an extreme situation and not something I do lightly."

Erik just stared at him. He wanted so much to trust him...

"Move over a little," Charles said, decisively. He turned the wheelchair at a different angle, locked the wheels and after pushing the cover aside, deftly lifted himself out of the chair and onto the mattress.

It took a little work, but a moment later, he was under the cover, warm body plastered against Erik's. "Is this okay?" he asked, hesitantly.

Erik swallowed hard a couple of times. He was still sore, still hoarse, but even if he had not been, he would have been struggling to find the right words.

"Erik?" Charles was beginning to look like he was losing a major battle.

Still not knowing what to say, Erik moved carefully, trying not to jostle his head too much. He managed a soft kiss, before flashes of pain shot through his head.

Charles lifted his hand and slid his fingers through Erik's hair, held his head so carefully as he helped him lie back down. Rubbing soothing circles against Erik's skull, he followed, kissing Erik. Still so softly, almost too carefully.

"Let's just take it easy now, okay?" Charles whispered against his lips. "We can talk secrets and powers later."

Erik made a soft consenting noise. It was hard to think straight with Charles rubbing his head, circular, soothing movements, while gently nibbling at Erik's mouth.

"Rest," Charles said quietly, holding Erik as he fell asleep.

 _So totally not the end, but the beginning of something completely new_

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a slightly different setup, wanted to make Erik an orderly when they meet, because that's what he was in the comics when he and Charles met in Israel (according to the Age of Apocalypse story arc).


End file.
